


Let's hope it's a good one (without any fear)

by Ambros



Series: Tumblr Prompts II [4]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternative Universe - Human, Alternative Universe - Teachers, Angst, Fluff, Homophobic Language, I don't know how this turned into a story about two OCs, I don't know what happened here I have no excuses, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Original Character(s), Originally Posted on Tumblr, POV Outsider, Tumblr Prompt, the students ship it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-12
Packaged: 2019-02-14 01:21:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12996750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ambros/pseuds/Ambros
Summary: - “I ship it.”Cameron looks up from where he'd been insistently banging on his locker to force it open and follows Jamie's alarmingly predatory gaze to discover she's staring at Mr. Lightwood and Mr. Bane, who are obliviously walking down the hall as they chat and smile and kind of ignore the swarm of students around them.[...]He shrugs, lets his back slide against the metal of the lockers until he can cross his ankles: “I don't see it.”Jamie rolls her eyes and imitates him, crosses her ankles and clasps her hands behind her back: “That's because your angsty teenage fringe is covering your eyes.”





	Let's hope it's a good one (without any fear)

**Author's Note:**

> This is for ifthingsgetcrazy on Tumblr; happy happy happy happy birthday!!!!!!!!!!!!  
> This is not the fic you asked, perfectly in character from me tbh, but I'm so sorry; I really don't know what happened. Genuinely. It just happened.

“I ship it.”

Cameron looks up from where he'd been insistently banging on his locker to force it open and follows Jamie's alarmingly predatory gaze to discover she's staring at Mr. Lightwood and Mr. Bane, who are obliviously walking down the hall as they chat and smile and kind of ignore the swarm of students around them.

Cameron frowns and hits the locker just right; it pops open and he shrugs his bag off his shoulder with a satisfied sigh. “Ship what where?”

He can _feel_ Jamie's annoyed eye-roll and he bites down on his lower lip to keep himself from grinning openly.

“How many times have I explained this to you? _Ship_ means that I – ”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cameron says, pushing his bag in his locker with both hands; one of the pins is almost dislodged from where it's hanging on for dear life to the black fabric, “That _you want them to be romantically involved because you think their characters would fit well with each other_ ,” he recites; he keeps the bag inside the locker with one hand and slams the door shut with the other, almost cutting off four of his fingers. He shrugs, lets his back slide against the metal of the lockers until he can cross his ankles: “I don't see it.”

Jamie rolls her eyes and imitates him, crosses her ankles and clasps her hands behind her back: “That's because your angsty teenage fringe is covering your eyes.”

Cameron glares at her, almost, _almost_ reaches for said fringe. “My fringe is fine,” he mutters.

Jamie doesn't bother with a reply. Instead, she makes a beeline for Mr. Bane and Mr. Lightwood, who are now a couple of steps from the teachers' lounge, and Cameron's eyes widen as he uselessly reaches for her and ends up taking a step forward to avoid stumbling over his own feet. “Jay!”, he calls under his breath, stepping around approximately three hundred students as he tries to stop her.

When he finally manages to catch up to her, it's too late: Mr. Lightwood and Mr. Bane have already been interrupted mid-conversation and are now looking down at Jamie with a polite _what the fuck_ written all over their faces.

Jamie has her shark smile on – all teeth and no mercy. “Mr. Bane,” she says, and Cameron can see how Mr. Bane has already figured it all out from the way his lips curl just so. There's a polite smile on Mr. Lightwood's face as well. They're both way too fond of Jamie for their own good. Cameron would know. “We could never let Winter Formal suck because we have no funds for decent decorations, could we?”

Cameron sighs in relief as he realizes that she had no intention of talking of _ships_ of any kind. Then he glares at the back of her head when he realizes she'd probably done it on purpose to freak him out.

“We really couldn't,” Mr. Bane says, nodding solemnly, “What did you have in mind?”

“Let's just say I spent my night on Amazon and I've accidentally put together a list of what we'll need,” she says, handing over a pristine list with quantity and price listed for each item, “and it fits perfectly in the school budget.”

Mr. Bane looks _delighted_ as he scans the list, humming and nodding his approval. “Looks perfect,” he says, then taps pensively on the sheet of paper with his index finger, “But I'm afraid I can't do it without Mr. Lightwood's help,” he adds with a satisfied smirk as he turns on his heels to look at his colleague.

Cameron freezes at the glint in Jamie's eyes, tugs on her sleeve in warning, but she doesn't bat an eye and turns to Mr. Lightwood, who rolls his eyes with a resigned smile: “If Mr. Lightwood is so vital to the project,” he says sardonically, “I guess I can't say no, can I?”

Jamie's smile turns into one with less teeth and more gratitude and Mr. Bane's smirk is filled with satisfaction. “Very well,” he says, folding the list in half, “I'll get this to the Principal and I'll update you in class tomorrow.”

Cameron relates to Mr. Lightwood's fond eye-roll a lot.

*

“I was wrong,” Jamie says in her conspiracy tone, and Cameron doesn't have the time to be surprised because she adds: “They're already together.”

Cameron rolls his eyes. “Sure they are.”

*

Evan is tall. Taller than him.

That's the first thing Cameron had noticed about him, realising at pretty much the same time that he definitely had a thing for taller guys.

So Evan sits next to him in the chemistry lab and he's taller than him even when they're sitting, and Cameron doesn't like it one bit.

“Hey,” Evan says, voice smooth as usual, the tiniest hint of a beard on his chin and cheeks. The fact that his beard looks ginger-ish despite the fact that he's as blond as they come drives Cameron insane most of the times.

He keeps doodling on his chemistry notes and pretends he isn't as affected by him as he actually is: “Hey.”

Evan sighs. It's quiet, but Cameron hears it anyway.

*

He closes his eyes and breathes in, thinks for a moment – he ends up doing the wrong thing anyway.

He follows him into the bathroom for that tiny sigh he wasn't supposed to hear and closes the door behind himself, blocks it with the heel of his booth and his back and Evan turns at the noise, his lips open around a sigh of relief before they're crashing against Cameron's, clumsy and hurried, the hint of beard on his cheeks harsh against Cameron's palms.

They kiss for a long time, until they're both breathless and Cameron doesn't really feel his lips anymore, he just lets Evan press lazy kisses on his skin until he's satisfied.

“Hey,” he says eventually, slightly breathless, lips red, different, in a sigh of relief.

Cameron closes his eyes and relaxes against the door despite himself: “Hey.”

*

They are called the Home-made Decorations Committee andthere will be no rest for any of them until the gym looks like a Winter Wonderland – whatever that means. Jamie makes it clear from their first meeting. She is standing in front of a huge amount of boxes, hands on her hips.

If it wasn't for the fact that Jamie had signed him up without asking him, Cameron would have known better than to show up.

There are groups. To each group is assigned a task. Some come with a Youtube tutorial.

Cameron ends up painting a giant styrofoam snowflake – one of the three assigned to him – carefully following the printed instructions he's been provided.

Evan sits next to him on the floor holding glitter and paint.

Cameron snorts: “Why would you subject yourself to this _voluntarily_?”

Evan shrugs, muscles shifting beautifully under his shirt – he's a human furnace and it's always warm in the Art Room: “I get to spend more time with you, don't I?” he says, voice low, winks at him as he unfolds his own sheet of instructions.

Cameron nervously looks around even though it's basically impossible anyone will hear them over the noise and the Christmas music blasting from someone's phone. “You're insane,” he murmurs, shaking his head as he pretends to focus on one of the corners of his snowflake with his light blue paint.

Evan shrugs; he starts singing along to _Last Christmas_ as he dips his brush in paint, like the truly ridiculous human being he is, and Cameron shakes his head, tries to ignore the warm feeling in his stomach.

*

It's not long before Jamie's theories spread through the Home-made Decorations Committee and the bets start flying.

No-one thinks Mr. Lightwood and Mr. Bane will never get together. (Cameron is refusing to bet on any outcome.)

Jamie, a couple of other people and _Evan_ think they're already together.

(Cameron just looks at him with his eyebrows raised after Evan has placed his two dollars in the Santa Claus hat Jamie is using to collect all the bets.

Evan picks up his brush and his glitter and plops down on the floor again while everyone else is still busy with their bets. “What?”

“You think they're together?”

Evan looks at him for a long moment before he shrugs: “Yeah.”)

The rest of the group is split pretty much in half: on one side, those who think they'll get together _before_ Winter Formal – i.e., before they've set foot in the gym – and those who think they'll get together _after_ Winter Formal – i.e., after they've set foot in the gym.

It's all very official and Jamie keeps track of every bet in a small notebook.

_Ship names_ are discussed after, and that's when Cameron decides to tune them out. He still gets updates from time to time because Evan is actively participating to the conversation and he can't quite tune _him_ out, but. That's not important.

*

It truly is worrying that Cameron walks into the gym on a Thursday afternoon, merely two days from the Formal,to see the Home-made Decorations Committee huddled-up in the middle of the room, whispering back and forth to each other, and doesn't find it weird in the slightest. It's not the first time it's happened. They're trying to come up with a way to get Mr. Lightwood and Mr. Bane to interact.

Of course, there's the After Formal Faction that doesn't quite agree and has tried multiple times to sabotage the Before Formal Faction, but, ultimately, they all agree on the _chemistry._ There's been talk of _looks_ and _flirty smiles_ and today's plan is to send them together to retrieve glue and scissors and pins they've hidden in the Art Room's supply closet.

Cameron can't believe Jamie is willingly wasting precious Formal-organizing time in order to do this.

He lets his bag fall to the floor and follows suit, ready to pick up his work where he'd left off, except that, of course, the scissors are gone. He rolls his eyes.

“Hey.”

He looks up and finds Evan's upside-down head a few feet over his own. “Hey,” he says, catches himself right before he lets his back rest against his legs. Evan is wearing a Christmas jumper – a black one with a gingerbread man with a broken leg; it reads _oh snap_. Fluffy pom-poms are used in place of the gingerbread man's buttons. It's ridiculously Evan, and, if it wasn't for the nervous look on his face, Cameron isn't sure he'd be able to stop himself from kissing him.

He's jittery, doesn't seem to be able to keep his fingers still. He keeps dragging his shoes against the floor. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

Cameron blinks, quickly thinks _nothing good ever came after that sentence_ but doesn't say _no_ , can't, really; it's a bit of an unfortunate trend, with him, this seeing troubles coming from a mile away and still running towards them. He nods, pushes on his palms to stand up: “Sure.”

He follows Evan silently, sneaks a quick glance at the Committee, still wrapped up in their plans, and when the gym door closes heavily behind them he almost starts; he crosses his arms over his chest, feels safer that way: “What's up?”

Evan's fingers twist the edge of his ridiculous Christmas jumper: “I wanted to ask you if you have plans for the Formal,” he says. He sounds breathless and steady at the same time, like he's rehearsed it but he's still nervous.

And Cameron doesn't know what to expect so he really doesn't see it coming, he simply says: “I don't think I'll go, actually.”, shrugs and almost feels relieved that that's all it was.

But Evan says: “I thought. Maybe. We could go together?”, the words unusually jerky in his mouth, Cameron is so busy wondering what happened to the usually smooth Evan that it takes him a moment to process what he just said. “ _What_?”

Evan blushes – his ears turn red and someone who doesn't know him wouldn't notice, but Cameron does, so he notices. There's a nervous smile twitching at the corners of his lips, a stubborn set to his jaw like he knows exactly how this is going to end but he's going to try anyway. “I don't know. Like, as a couple? Maybe?”

Cameron feels – cold. He feels cold all over, fear gripping his stomach, he feels irrationally betrayed. “I don't think that's such a good idea,” he says, his voice shakier than he'd like.

Evan – flinches. Smooth, witty Evan flinches. The muscles in his jaw work for a few seconds as he grinds his teeth together. “Is it because – are we not a couple?”

A groan of frustration makes its way up Cameron's throat and he bites down on it, there's something important he needs to say and doesn't quite know how: “It's not – That's not – it's not that simple, okay?”

Anger digs a frown between Evan's eyebrows, determination fills his eyes once again as he takes a step forward and takes his hand – and that's the first time they've held hands in a public place and it almost takes Cameron's breath away. “What's not simple about _this_?”

Cameron disentangles their fingers before the impression of Evan's between his can burn its way in his skin. “Don't, just – it's not simple for _us_ , okay?”

There's a discrete cough behind them, and Cameron takes a step back like he's been burned, his back hits the gym door and he curses before he realizes Mr. Bane and Mr. Lightwood are standing a few feet away from them.

He tries to say: “I'm – ” but doesn't have enough oxygen to finish the sentence because Evan's dark eyes look lost and disappointed at the same time, and Cameron feels his own eyes water suddenly and doesn't even know why before he all but runs to the closest bathroom.

*

He goes to Jamie's because Jamie always has ice-cream and tissues.

Jamie just takes a look at him before she's tugging him inside and pushing him down on her bed; she disappears downstairs and reappears with ice-cream and spoons.

*

She's disappointed and sad and a little bit angry that he hadn't told her. Cameron knows she would be. But, since she is the best of friends, she doesn't focus on that. _For now._ She pats his head and lets him have most of her ice-cream, doesn't ask for his reasons and just says: “It's gonna be alright.”

*

Cameron doesn't see Evan on Friday.

They don't have a single class together and he doesn't show up for the finishing touches to the gym and Cameron feels like a trash-can.

Jamie tries to help him out a couple of times, but Cameron sends her a small smile and shakes his head; eventually, she simply lets him be.

He's busy trying to spread some artificial snow on a tree to hide all the places where the plastic of the branches is showing when Mr. Lightwood says: “Here, let me do that.”

Cameron hesitates for a second, his cheeks burning red as he remembers he hasn't even begun to deal with the fact that two of his teachers probably heard him fight with his – Evan. With Evan.

He hands him the bag of artificial snow and Mr. Lightwood stands on his tip-toes to reach the higher branches of the tree; he resolves to simply throwing it and hope for the best when he realises he can't reach the top of it, and Cameron chuckles without really meaning to. He's just really tired.

Mr. Lightwood smiles at him, and it's in that smile that Cameron knows he heard.

Mr. Lightwood looks down for a moment, takes another handful of artificial snow and moves to the next tree. Cameron follows him.

“You know,” he says, “I never went to any of my school's dances.”

He tries to make it sound casual, but it's the slight tremor behind his voice that stops Cameron from brushing off his clumsy attempt at whatever this is. He looks away, pretends to be busy with a branch that will probably fall off if they keep putting snow on it. “Really? How come?”

Mr. Lightwood shrugs. He's not looking at Cameron either. “I wasn't out,” he says, tries to pass it off as a casual answer but there's a heavy weight behind it that Cameron understands all too well. “Well, not that being out would have really made it any easier, at the time. But I didn't want to spend my nights dancing with some girl or sitting around. So I didn't go.”

Cameron swallows; he's holding a handful of snow and he drops it carefully in a little pile under the tree. He asks: “Do you regret it?”

A weird smile curls Mr. Lightwood's lips – bitter, but like he was expecting the question. “No point in regretting it, is there?”, he says, shakes a branch with too much snow on it so that it falls naturally on the lower ones. “But I am sorry,” he adds, turning to look at Cameron, a heaviness to his voice, “that not enough has changed. That you have to make that same choice.”

Cameron stops, emotions rushing through him too fast for him to catch them, they leave him raw and breathless, his eyes wet because, apparently, crying is the only thing he can do these days. “A lot has changed, though,” he whispers around the knot in his throat. Because it's what he's been trying to tell himself all along. A lot has changed. Not enough, but a lot. He's no longer the child who got pushed to the ground. He can look them in the eyes and say _I'm a fag. So what?_

Mr. Lightwood nods, relief making his smile lighter: “Yeah,” he says, turning back to the tree, “That's why I'm thinking of taking my fiancé to this one.”

Pride and happiness surround the word and Cameron feels them in his chest; he sneaks a glance in Jamie's direction: “It's Mr. Bane, isn't it?”

Mr. Lightwood winks at him and Cameron groans: “I can't believe Jamie was right.”

Mr. Lightwood chuckles, and they spend a couple more second on that tree before they move on to the next.

“Do you think I should go?” he asks once he's worked up enough courage to speak.

Mr. Lightwood looks him in the eyes when he says: “I think we'll have your back if you do. Both of your backs. And a lot of other people will too.”

They go back to working in silence after that.

*

There's one foot of snow in the parking lot and Cameron is freezing, but it's almost nothing compared to the fear that's turning his insides into stone.

Jamie loops her arm through his, tugs on him the tiniest bit: “You can do this,” she whispers, and Cameron repeats it to himself, in his mind, _you can do this_ , _you can do this_ , and he's suddenly in the gym, blue and white surrounding him, and if he wasn't so busy panicking he would probably be proud of the work they did – as it is, he's not sure where his feet are.

He sees Mr. Lightwood and Mr. Bane standing on the edge of the crowd of students; they are casually holding hands.

Mr. Lightwood smiles at him when he catches his gaze. He points at his eyes and then at his own back.

Cameron stands up straighter, a slow, tiny smile curling his lips; he disentangles his arm from Jamie's: “I have to go find Evan,” he says.

Jamie's smile is blinding; she stamps a deep blue kiss on his cheek before hurrying away.

Cameron takes a deep breath.

It's a bit like in the movies, really. The crowd parts and suddenly Cameron sees him, sitting down with his legs crossed, wrapped in a dark blue suit and a white button down, he's talking to some of his friends from the football team. He looks gorgeous. Cameron moves without registering it, before he knows it he's standing in front of him and all his friends are quiet.

Evan is looking at him like he doesn't quite believe it, and Cameron kind of shares the sentiment.

He holds out his hand, says: “May I have this dance?”

His fingers are shaking just so, until Evan takes his hand. “I thought you'd never ask.”

*

Evan being tall isn't such a bad thing when Cameron can use him as a pillow when he's tired but he hasn't danced enough quite yet.

Mr. Bane and Mr. Lightwood are dancing too. Well, they're swaying in place while they chuckle and whisper. They look younger.

Cameron is happy they got their chance to dance at a prom together.

Mr. Lightwood sends him a bright smile and Cameron gives him a thumbs up.

They all did.

  


  



End file.
